


Producing Romance

by englandwouldfalljohn



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Episode: s03e01 The Empty Hearse, Fix-It, Fluff, It Gets Spilled, Johnlock Roulette, Light Angst, M/M, Original Poem, Pining Sherlock, Poetry, Post-Reichenbach, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Tea, The Drink Code
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 07:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12576648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englandwouldfalljohn/pseuds/englandwouldfalljohn
Summary: As the wedding approaches, John becomes a regular at Baker Street. Alone one day, he finds a document in Sherlock's handwriting and can't help but read...





	Producing Romance

Before I say goodbye, my friend

And wish you happiness

Never being forced to know

All that I’ve held within

Neglecting what has come to be

A lie, a life, a love

So you may move on as you please

As gaze I from above

Now darkness closes in, my dear

Despite my pounding heart

And since you still evade my grasp

Vicious rumors tear apart

Our once solid and gentle time

Carefree as we did roam

Any time left I have with thee

Do let it pass at home

Or leave me here to waste away

Such is my end: your wedding day

***

John heard the heavy footfalls on the stairs, but was powerless to change his position. And so, as Sherlock Holmes entered his flat, there he found his best friend, the groom to his best man: frozen, bent forward slightly over the desk, notebook sheet grasped in his left hand.

“Sherlock,” he began without looking up from what he’d found. What was so poorly hidden that he must’ve been meant to find. What he wished to hell he’d found years ago. “Sherlock…”

“Oh, don’t be daft John.” A thick coat was swung onto its hook, partially buried under an unusually shabby-looking blue scarf, as the detective bounded into the kitchen to prepare tea.

“What?!” The blogger demanded, finally turning his head to shoot a confused stare at the back of the purple shirt at the worktop.

“It’s only my shopping list.”

“Sherlock, this is a poem, which I would suggest was about… about The Woman.”

“Except?”

“Except the last line would seem to imply that it’s about--”

“You?”

“Yes. No. I mean… Mary.”

“It’s not about Mary, John. And it was never about The Woman. Not for me.”

John shook his head slightly.  _ If it wasn’t about Irene Adler or Mary, and it was about someone about to be married, then… well, he even just said himself that it sounded like-- _

“Do relax, John,” Sherlock called from inside the refrigerator, where a single tear raced rapidly down to his chin. “Read it again, but attempt to observe this time. It’s only my shopping list.”

John’s brow furrowed, and as he looked back at the script in his hand, he noticed: bananas and--

“Oh.”

“Right.”

_ It’s only his… but wait. That’s not right. There are no avocados this time of year… _

“As you can see, it was only a means of -- JAWN!” Sherlock turned directly into his former flatmate’s chest, cups clattering on saucers and tea spilling across the kitchen floor. His concern fell away a moment later as thin, wet lips brushed his own with a tenderness, a degree of understanding, that he could not recall ever knowing. The ceramic shattered as his hands slid around a soft oatmeal sweater, leaning back slightly to defray the struggle brought on by their height difference. Romantic, awkward, intimate, and --

“Your mustache, John. It’s gone.”

“Mmm. And by tomorrow, you’ll be able to say the same for my fiance.”

“You’re sure…”

“I’m sure. Turns out I only shave for Sherlock Holmes.”


End file.
